


A Stranger's Revenge

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Caring Sam, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Violence, Protective Sam Winchester, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 03:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a hunt on the West Coast ends, Dean sends Sam out on a mission of grave importance only to learn what’s been behind Sam’s sudden nightmares and winds up in a dangerous situation when an unknown & unexpected threat seeks revenge on Sam by going after the hunter’s weakest spot: his brother. Sam must fight the pain of his past, an enemy with unknown skills and rescue Dean before it’s too late. *Hurt/Dean & worried/ upset/protective/angry!Sam* Set in season 8 between 08x10-Torn & Frayed & 08x11- LARP & the Real Girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language as always. I’ll also warn for mild violence though if it gets too bad, which this one shouldn’t, I’ll toss a warning on the chapter.  
> Spoilers/Tags: May contain some spoilers for season 8 but I don’t think so unless you haven’t seen the season. No tags to any episode since this takes place between episodes.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except the imagination that creates the plot. It’s written for enjoyment.  
> Author Note: So as you may or may not know I’m basically a Dean-girl which others find odd since I mainly hurt, abuse, etc…Sam. I am making a huge effort to hurt Dean only in this one so we shall see if Sam comes out unscathed or just a little bruised.  
> Look me up on Facebook under morgana07 for chatting, updates, questions and thanks for reading.

** Chapter One **

****

“Go.”

“C’mon, you’re not serious about making me do this.”

“You’ve been lucky that I’ve let it slide for as long as I have but nope, no more. Go and don’t come back until it’s done right.”

“Dean, it’s been over a year and if I hadn’t mentioned it you wouldn’t even have known…probably.”

“I knew the second I got behind the wheel again, Sam. Demons, angels, bodyshifting nerds are all one thing of affront to have in her but NOT that.”

Fighting the urge to pull the hair he’d just run his hands through, Sam Winchester debated on if the infamous puppy eyes would work but figured he and his older brother were just getting back on an even keel after months of near constant stress and fighting so probably not.

Of course that didn’t mean he was going to give up his side of the argument. “It was one dog and it was over a year ago,” he argued, sighing when a set of keys was pressed into his hand while green eyes were firm as they glared at him.

“Exactly. One dog in my car when you know what the first rule of driving the Impala is,” Dean was still ticked about the dog in the car thing even though he supposed it was a small thing in the larger scale of things. “What’s the first rule, Sam?”

“Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole,” Sam recited without blinking or hesitation, a little surprised that he had and also guessed it took his brother off guard as well when Dean turned from pulling a flannel shirt on over his grey t-shirt.

It had been a long time since that rule had been tossed back in his face and silently the older brother was impressed but not enough to be swayed off his goal. “Cute. Impressive and correct so what’s the second rule of driving the Impala then?” he asked.

“If I scratch her you will end me,” again the reply was instant and without thought and again it made Dean pause.

Scratching the side of his nose while also fighting not to grin, Dean decided it was time to rewrite the list of rules for driving the Impala. “Okay smartass, where exactly does the ‘no dogs in the car’ rule rank?” he demanded mostly to see what his brother would say to it.

“Twelfth, right after the ‘you’re the only one allowed to have sex in the Impala’ rule,” Sam couldn’t say why he felt a little better after this little debate but he actually did and didn’t even jump when a hand clamped down on his shoulder as he chose to add. “Not that I can do with the images of that in my head again.”

“You were twelve, snooping and shouldn’t have been trying to see what I was doing and stop trying to distract me, damn it,” Dean shook his head, refusing to smile enough though he could feel the change in Sam when he touched him. “The rule, whatever the hell number it is, is still the same. No dogs in the car, ever.

“Now, before we leave sunny California, you are going to take the car and wash, wax and detail it so no trace of doggie smell is left and I don’t mean sticking one of those pine tree things on the mirror to mask the smell either,” he lightly shoved his brother out the door of their motel and toward the intended 1967 black Chevy Impala that was usually home and transportation to the brothers.

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, Sam finally gave in. “Fine, I’ll go wash the car,” he muttered sourly, lifting a brow. “You gonna clean the guns while I’m gone?”

Sam knew that while his brother loved the Impala nearly as much or more as he did anything else and lovingly took care of the classic car there were times when intense detailing or cleaning of the inside was needed and unless Dean was really bored or on edge he’d do anything to put the chore off on Sam.

So if the choice was between cleaning the guns or detailing the inside of the Impala then Sam knew which his brother would choose and for some reason he didn’t mind it.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Dean nodded but caught the tiny flicker on Sam’s face. “I meant what I told Benny, Sam. I’m done and I’ll be here when you get back,” he assured his brother. “Bring dinner back with you too.”

“Burgers or pizza?” Sam asked as he started to get into the car only to look around the deserted motel lot as if feeling something off with it. “Y’know, they have some really good organic…”

“Double bacon cheeseburger with the works and extra onions,” Dean cut him off with a look that clearly warned if Sam brought anything healthy back that he’d be sleeping in the very car he was about to spend the afternoon cleaning. “And…”

“I won’t forget the pie,” Sam smiled, hazel eyes taking another look around the lot before finally shrugging off his sense of unease as just still being on edge from so long of being without his brother around. “Dean? Lock the door while I’m gone.”

His brother had just turned back toward the room when Dean suddenly threw him a look that was part confused, part amused and something that almost looked like surprise at the odd request.

They almost always locked the doors on the motel rooms they used but they never requested it of one another. The last person who had ever done that was when they were kids and their Dad would leave them alone but just as he was considering a smart remark the start of puppy eyes caught him and Dean realized that something was worrying his little brother.

“I will,” he assured him, hesitating a beat before speaking again. “Something wrong, Sam?”

Nothing he could put his finger on and since he didn’t want Dean thinking he was paranoid over nothing, Sam shook his head with a small smile. “No, it’s nothing,” he replied, sticking the key into the ignition when something else came to him and he stuck his head out the window. “Dean? If you were ever cursed by a witch or something and got turned into a dog does that mean you couldn’t get into the Impala?”

Dean’s fingers had just touched the doorknob when that question reached his ears and rather than turn and let Sam see the smile that wanted to come he merely raised a hand to flip his smartass brother off before entering the room and shutting the door with enough of a slam that the younger hunter grinned.

The Impala drove off to where Sam had already GPS’d a full-out car wash to fulfill his car duties and didn’t notice the silhouette between the buildings that watched him drive off before eyeing the motel room door that currently belonged to the Winchesters.

Listening for the sound of his car to leave the lot, Dean only allowed his full smile to show once he was sure he was alone and then shook his head wryly.

He’d been back from Purgatory a couple months and Dean fully admitted that he and Sam had been going through hell personally since his return but it seemed to be getting better in the past few weeks since both had made choices.

The strain and tension between them didn’t feel as thick and Dean knew even a month ago his little brother wouldn’t have been as quick to mouth off back to him like he had been today and he knew Sam would never have asked him that last question if things weren’t getting better again.

Dean accepted there were things he and Sam still needed to talk about. There were things that Dean would probably never tell his brother about Purgatory or Benny but he knew he needed to at least come clean about some stuff so that maybe his uneasy and nightmarish again brother would admit to Dean what was bringing the damn nightmares back.

He’d been Sam’s big brother for going on thirty years and Dean knew the different kind of nightmares his brother was prone to have. Considering everything they’d both been through in their lives, the last eight especially, he understood Sam would still have some issues but these nightmares, the ones that Sam tried to not let him know he was having, were a little too similar to the ones his little brother would have right after the fire at Stanford.

Lucifer dreams, soulless dreams, demon dreams, hallucinations of Lucifer dreams were all ones Dean could still almost accept Sam having every once in a while but whatever the hell was bothering his brother in his sleep was bad enough to send him bolting upright in bed with a near scream and then into the bathroom for the next few hours as if trying to calm down without bothering Dean’s sleep.

“Yeah, that’s not working too well,” he muttered since every time Sam moved in bed or made a noise that wasn’t Sam-like the big brother in Dean knew it and was awake but the issues between them had kept him from going to Sam like he normally would’ve.

That was all changing now since if his brother woke up again the coming night then it was time for Dean to find out just what was bothering Sam because he’d already gone through the mental list of possible issues and was coming up empty.

Debating on getting to work on cleaning the weapons that needed cleaned or snooping on Sam’s laptop for possible clues Dean did a mental coin toss. He knew how long Sam should be gone if he did a good job on cleaning the car so he figured he had enough time to clean the guns and look to see if anything saved on the laptop would yield a clue to Sam’s dreams.

Dean recalled now it had been right after Sam had been checking his email on night that something had upset his brother because he’d nearly jumped away from the table after slamming the lid on the computer and making some excuse of running to a nearby diner for dinner.

It had been a long time since Dean had felt the need to break his brother’s privacy by snooping but something was keeping Sam awake at night and also causing him to be too quiet in the daytime…so much so that he wasn’t even responding to the normal little teasing jabs that Dean knew could always get a rise outta his brother.

At first he’d believed it was being back on the West Coast that was adding to Sam’s stress. Dean had tried to avoid this haunting or to let Garth take it because it was four hours away from Palo Alto and that was one place that he firmly tried to keep Sam from returning to or thinking too hard about even after all this time.

“God, gotta love this kid,” he smiled as he booted the laptop up to find the email program and saw that Sam still used the same password that he always had.

While computers weren’t Dean’s greatest area he did know how to use one to at least surf for porn and check his rarely used email. He was better at checking Sam’s emails even though as he looked now he felt a little pang that his brother’s emails were mostly junk mail, stuff that Kevin or Garth sent, a few notices of new stories that Sam insisted on reading that people, like Becky, wrote about them.

Right after Sam left school to begin hunting again he’d still get emails for his college pals and up to the last time that Dean had found the need to snoop he was still getting a few but now even those seem to have dwindled.

Taking a swift look, Dean quickly pinpointed several emails from an unknown IP address. A few had been opened but the last dozen or so hadn’t been touched as if Sam had been avoiding them which Dean knew was not like his brother who used to be manic about reading every single email and replying.

After checking to see that the date of the first email coincided with when Sam’s bad dreams restarted, he clicked on the attachment after seeing that this email didn’t have a message, just photos.

“What the… _sonuvabitch_ ,” he breathed out the curse as the array of photos began to pop up and Dean found images of his much younger brother, back when Sam still had short floppy hair, a love for hoodies and a smiling happy blond on his arm in most of the shots or they were just plain photos of Jessica.

Dean’s teeth were clenching as he checked the other emails from that address to see that each one was loaded with pictures of either Sam and Jessica or just Jessica but the last one was what caught the hunter’s attention because that one had words types in large bold font and merely said ‘ **IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!!!!** ’

“What the hell, Sammy?” he murmured without realizing he’d used the nickname for his brother that he hadn’t actually called Sam to his face since returning from Purgatory, a sick feeling beginning to form in his stomach that he understood what the nightmares were about and why Sam was jumpier than normal these days. “Oh, hell no…this asshole will die.”

Sam might be going to be thirty years old soon but in Dean’s mind he will forever be his little brother and anyone who comes close to upsetting or threatening him usually paid for it with Dean Winchester’s fist upside their head or his .45 in their face.

He was just reaching for his cell phone to call Sam for a quick change in plans when a hesitant knock sounded on the door. “I hate room service sometimes,” Dean growled, slapping the lid closed on the laptop, giving the room a quick look to be sure nothing was out that shouldn’t be…like guns or knives before looking out the viewer with a frown. “What?”

The man standing outside the door didn’t look like a maid nor did he look like a cop or security so the hunter relaxed slightly, forgetting Sam’s concerns out of his own distractions now over who the hell was threatening his little brother.

“Umm, sorry to bother you but no one was in the manager’s office and no one else must be in,” the man called from the other side of the door in a low, almost worried tone. “My car won’t start and I need to call a tow truck and I also can’t get a signal in this cheap phone I have so I was wondering if I could maybe make a quick call?”

Dean took another glance at the man from the door’s viewing hole. He was maybe around Dean’s age or so with a near white blond hair cut almost military short but mirrored sunglasses shielded his eyes.

The hunter inside Dean told him not to open the door since there still seemed to be too many demons and other evil crap after them but since he also got the idea that this guy wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of until he made the damn call and he had stuff to do, he flipped the lock to open the door.

“Phone’s by the bed, make it quick,” he put his best no nonsense deep gravelly voice growl to good use, tossing his jacket over the duffel on his bed which held the weapons he still needed to clean.

“Um, thanks,” the man stepped in carefully as if expecting to be jumped but then moved toward the phone. “I really appreciate this. No cell service sucks at time, y’know.”

Dean did know that. It also made him groan when he glanced at his own phone to see that a lack of towers in this town would also keep him from calling Sam right then. “Shit,” he cursed, forgetting for just a moment that he wasn’t alone.

“Something wrong?” the man asked while picking up the phone and digging into the pocket of his jacket as if looking for a number. “You seem upset.”

“No, I need to call my brother back here but I’ll just call him once you’re done calling for the tow,” Dean decided with a sigh, starting to turn back to finish turning off the laptop properly when a sudden click and a low buzzing sound had every warning sense screaming at him.

Dean was moving out of instinct of just knowing danger was somehow close but he’d only begun to shift his body when it felt like every nerve was lit on fire and he went down with a ragged scream as the taser wires hit him square in the spine with jolts of electricity that were even worse than the time he nearly electrocuted himself.

“I’m afraid your precious brother won’t be any good to you, Winchester,” the man’s voice was no longer hesitant or meek sounding but rough, strong and cruel as a heavy boot connected with the hunter’s ribs as Dean struggled to both get air into his lungs and move but the shock had shut his body down, leaving him helpless to the brutal onslaught of kicks and punches that landed.

Each blow seemed to be directed at and hit a specific part of the hunter’s body and with each strike it seemed like the nerves were affected directly until finally the man’s fingers were around his throat, what little movement Dean had left didn’t do him any good against the attacker whose glasses had fallen off to reveal cold blue eyes.

“W…who…what the…” Dean could taste blood, hoping it was from a split lip or a bitten tongue and nothing more serious as he continued to try to struggle but his body was nearly numb as blurry eyes watched a needle be pulled out. “Christo,” he managed to grit out even though a demon shouldn’t have been able to cross the salt line by the door or the tiny little movable demon’s trap under the welcome mat by the door.

Nothing twitched or moved in the man’s face as he jabbed the needle into the side of Dean’s neck, an cruel smile coming as he watched the weakly struggling man’s eyes begin to roll back in his head. “Your brother took something that belonged to me. Now I’m going to take something that belongs to me but I’ll make him suffer before he watches you die.”

Dean’s body might be numb and useless and he could feel whatever drug he’d just been shot up with burning his veins but the concern for his brother was still there as he suddenly realized this asshole must be the nut who’d been emailing Sam those pictures.

“You…you…don’t touch…my… ** _ARGH_**!!!” Dean tried to keep the sudden cry of pain in but the feel of the taser jamming into his kidney with full strength made it impossible right then.

“I won’t have to touch him,” the man smirked, a flash of something crossing his face as his fingers squeezed Dean’s throat. “I’ve found out enough about him to know to hurt him all I have to do is hurt…you and I’m an expert at inflicting pain as you’re going to find out. Once you wake up, that is.”

Fear for Sam walking into a damn trap was nearly able to allow Dean’s useless muscles to work but the drug caused his vision to swim and his eyes rolled back with a last thought of his brother and the wish that if Sam ever didn’t come for him this would be the time.

 

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language and mild violence toward the end.

**Chapter Two**

“Never again. No dogs in the car ever again,” Sam Winchester had grown up inside the classic 1967 Chevy Impala and he’d cleaned her more than once but the effort it was taking to make sure every trace of dog hair and smell was out of the car was making him more frustrated than he’d been all week.

Luckily the small full service car wash wasn’t busy on a weekday afternoon so he was mostly alone so no one heard his inner complaints after he’d meticulously washed every inch of the Impala before waxing her and then started the chore of cleaning the inside.

Of course it wasn’t just signs of Riot he was cleaning but what also appeared to be a couple years’ worth of crap that Sam swore he’d cleaned out during the year of time he’d rather forget ever happened. “I know this car was clean a few months ago,” he muttered, tossing another handful of fast food wrappers and something he guessed might have been a forgotten sandwich into a bag for disposal later.

Sam had spent the better part of two hours so far washing, waxing and now cleaning the interior of the car that would forever be Dean’s in his mind.

It had been home for them since Sam was six months old and no matter where he went or where they stayed it was the Impala that always called to the young man when he was tired or sick.

He had never told Dean how many nights during the year he’d been in Purgatory that Sam had chosen to sleep in the Impala rather than in bed with Amelia.

When he’d felt lost or was missing his brother the most he’d go sit in or sleep in the Impala because the car still felt like Dean and for Sam both the car and his brother meant home. Sam wished he had the nerve to tell Dean that but wasn’t certain their relationship was back on solid ground enough to risk a huge chick flick moment.

That was another reason that Sam had agreed to clean the car. If it meant doing something to make his brother happy then he’d do it. It also gave him an excuse to not be in the motel room near his laptop since he knew there was email to check but he wasn’t ready to face another dose of pictures from the past.

Dropping the last of the trash into the bag, Sam leaned his head back against the seat to close his eyes. He was tired and it was now starting to show.

At first Sam thought the first email was just a fluke sent as a joke by someone he and Jessica had known even though no one from that time in his life should’ve had this new email address but after the third message it quickly became clear that this was more and then the nightmares started.

It had been eight years since Sam had watched his girlfriend burn on the ceiling of their apartment and it had taken him a long time to get over Jessica. He still blamed himself and probably always would but had come to accept her death as also a byproduct of what others had wanted out of his life.

After it had first happened he’d had nightmares nearly every night and Sam could still recall the weeks after the fire when it had only been Dean’s presence in the room or near him that had kept Sam together enough to slowly begin to heal.

Now the nightmares of the fire, feeling the heat, seeing Jessica pinned to the ceiling were back with a vengeance and a piece of Sam wished he could wake his brother up just once so he wouldn’t be so alone while struggling with both memories and pain but all Sam did was sit in the bathroom with the shower and taps running so the broken sounds he made didn’t wake Dean and remind them both how much had changed in a year.

Of course, the constant nightmares and memories wasn’t helped by being only four hours away from Palo Alto where it had happened and not sleeping fully was beginning to take a huge toil on the younger Winchester.

“Damn,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his eyes to try to clear the grit out of them while also wondering how hard it would be to explain to Dean if he slept in the car tonight.

That would certainly be cause for his older brother to want to know what was going on because in all their years of hunting together, through the fights, the strain, the mistrust there had never been a time that one of them had slept in the car.

Sam tossed the bag of trash to finish detailing the front of the car as his eyes double checked the back seat to be sure the special cleaner he’d used to care for the leather seat had dried correctly when he smiled a little more at the Army man that was still stuck in the ashtray in the door.

It always meant so much to Sam that no matter how many times the Impala had been fixed or even rebuilt that his brother always put the little green soldier back in the door that had been its home since the day he’d stuck it in there.

The Army man, the Legos in the heater, the carved initials were a part of the Impala as much as it was a part of Sam and Dean which is why Sam felt safe in the car.

A glance at his watch made him blink because he hadn’t expected to spend this long on cleaning the Impala. “Shit, he’s gonna be pissed,” he snatched his phone to call Dean to let him know he was grabbing dinner and on the way back only to frown when the phone went straight to voicemail. “Huh.”

Deciding that maybe his brother was just on the phone with Garth or Kevin and didn’t switch to take the new call, Sam swung by a diner to grab dinner that included a couple double bacon cheeseburgers with the works and extra onions for you brother, a grilled chicken sandwich and a salad for him and of course several pieces of pie since deciding on one flavor was not Sam’s favorite thing to do and Dean would usually eat any kind of pie you put in front of him.

Two more dropped calls and by the time Sam pulled the Impala back in front of their motel room he didn’t bother being angry at Dean not picking up. He was too busy being worried.

Sam’s senses were too on edge and hyper since this afternoon when he’d almost refused to leave after feeling like someone had been watching them and he was prepared to take his brother’s teasing about being paranoid as he stuffed the bag of food under one arm while checking the lot to make sure no one was looking before he pulled the sidearm that he’d kept on him today.

Something was off today and while the hunter didn’t know what it was it was enough to catch every sense his Dad and others had tried to drill into his head growing up.

The odd skid marks in the lot that hadn’t been there earlier caught his eye but Sam shrugged that off as he went to put his key in the lock only to grit his teeth when the door pushed opened on its own, not locked and not shut all the way and he could recall hearing Dean slam the door earlier so it should’ve been closed.

Sam might’ve spent a good long time trying to ignore what he was and the legacy of his family but that didn’t mean that a few lessons didn’t stick with him.

His brother had taught him to be over cautious at times and since most of what he’d learned growing up had been taught by Dean, Sam reverted to those lessons now as he nudged the door open slowly with a foot while seeing lights on in the room that allowed him to use the mirror across the room to see that no one was waiting behind the door to jump him.

Then his attention went to the ripped open duffel bags, the blood on the floor, the phone cord that had been torn from the wall and his brother’s cellphone laying specifically on top of Sam’s laptop as if placed there.

“Dean?” he called hopefully, stepping into the room fully with eyes moving constantly while listening for sounds of his brother and trying to ignore the building cold feeling of sick dread in his gut. “What the hell happened?” he asked the room, glancing down and feeling his blood turn to ice; the food bag falling out of his grasp.

Sam had been willing to make an excuse for the little bit of blood he noticed since he knew Dean had been cleaning the gear and might have, however unlikely, nicked himself on a blade but when he rounded the first bed to see the dropped taser, more blood, a torn flannel shirt littered among a scattering of snapshots of the smiling face of Jessica Moore all of those weak excuses were replaced but panic.

“Dean!” ignoring the phone to look into the bathroom just to be sure, Sam’s fingers gripped the doorframe tightly as he read the blood scrawled message on the wall.

“‘ ** _You took mine. Now I’ll take yours!!_** ’”

“No,” Sam whispered, spinning away from the bathroom to grab for his phone but just as suddenly put it down to look around the room almost helplessly.

Dean’s phone had been left in the room so calling it wouldn’t help and realizing that his brother had been attacked by whoever had been sending him those emails…realizing that Dean was the one in trouble nearly brought on a rare panic attack.

It was usually his brother coming to the rescue because it took a lot for someone to get the jump on Dean much less be able to subdue him enough to get him tied up or unconscious and Sam couldn’t figure out how this had happened until he saw the discarded needle on the floor.

Whoever was stalking Sam must have been what he felt earlier watching them in the lot and had somehow gotten past his older brother’s too suspicious for his own good inner defenses to get into the room and must have used to taser on Dean to surprise him.

“Hang on, Dean. I’ll find you,” though right then Sam’s mind was a complete blank as to how he’d do this with no idea who in the hell had done this or who had been sending him the emails but he did know in his heart that he needed to find his brother and soon. “I’ll find you and make this asshole pay.”

For as long as Sam could really remember it was almost always his older brother taking care of him. It had been Dean handling the bullies in school or acting as a buffer between Sam and their Dad and even when they’d fought over Ruby or more recent issues Dean tried to protect and shield him.

Now it was Dean in trouble because something from Sam’s past had chosen this moment to come back but instead of going after Sam directly whoever this was had chosen to go after his brother instead and Sam was not going to risk losing Dean to someone with a vendetta against him over something he didn’t even understand.

Sam was about to call Garth to maybe have Kevin try to backtrack the IP address on those emails while he grabbed all their stuff to start looking around town or asking questions at the motel office to see if anyone had seen anything when his brother’s phone suddenly rang.

“Dean?” he demanded after he nearly fumbled with the damn phone to get it answered. “Dean? Is that you? What’s happening? Where are you and…God, no.”

The ragged pain filled scream that came over the line caused Sam’s knuckles to go white. “Dean!”

“I’m afraid your brother’s a little too busy to speak to you right now, Winchester. I don’t think the knife I just raked down his back is agreeing with him.”

The male voice was hard, cruel and totally unknown to Sam. “Who the hell is this?” he demanded tightly, still hearing sounds from the background that years of dealing with wounds to also his time in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael told Sam his brother was being hurt. “What the hell do you want?”

“I want you to suffer, hotshot. I want you to suffer like you’ve never imagined before. I want you to suffer like she did before you killed her,” the man snarled, a noise cracking and again the shout of pain was loud and muffled, a clear sign Dean’s abductor had gagged him.

“Then hurt me, face me but let me brother go!” Sam shouted, fingers pulling on his hair in frustration as he was forced to listen to his brother in pain of some kind but the fact that this guy, whoever he was, could make Dean shout like this told the younger Winchester that his brother’s pain was severe since Dean almost never gave in to normal pain. “Damn it! Whatever you want from me does not involve Dean! Tell me what you want from me and…”

“I told you. I want you to suffer. I want you to watch as I torture your precious brother and you’ll beg for his life but since you took mine it only seems fair that I take yours,” the man repeated, eyeing his captive and the shock in his eyes but also the rage.

Sam was at a loss. He didn’t know the voice and he couldn’t figure out what the hell he’d possibly done to the man or what his connection to Jessica would be if he was the one sending the emails of pictures. “Who are you?” he asked again, stuffing things back into the duffel bags when his fingers snagged on something from his that he pulled out to just hold while trying to stay calm. “What did I take from you?”

“My sister,” the man returned evenly. “You killed my little sister, Winchester. You took Jessica away and now I’ll take your brother away from you…unless you find us in time to maybe take his place or stop me from hurting him until I get bored and I burn this place to the ground with him alive inside it.”

Stunned at that unexpected revelation, Sam’s hand closed over what he held while shaking without even realizing it. “You’re…Jess’s…” he could barely recall hearing the one time he went home with Jess about her brother that was stationed overseas in the Gulf but Jess didn’t talk much about him. “You’re Nick.”

“I’m the man who will make you regret ever meeting Jessica much less killing her, bastard,” Nick Moore’s hand shook in a near mad fury as he gripped the phone. “Who I am is the man who will kill your brother the way my sister died but before I hang up you can hear him one last time.”

“Wait…wait!” Sam needed to buy time to at least figure out why in the hell in this guy had taken Dean. “Dean barely knew Jess. It wasn’t his fault she died. It was mine. You want to kill anyone then kill me but tell me where you are first and…don’t hurt him for my mistakes,” he pleaded, something mentioned earlier hitting Sam in the brain but the sound of his brother screaming again made it impossible for him to focus. “Dean…”

Sam slumped to the bottom of what was Dean’s bed to listen to the series of what he could guess were fists striking probably already serious wounds just for the purpose of hurting his brother because of him.

“I’ve sent you a little video so you can see a little of what I’ve done to him and what I will do before I light his ass up, Winchester,” Nick Moore looked between Dean and the phone. “I’ve heard you’re supposed to be so damn bright so maybe you’ll figure out where we are before big brother pays the price for your mistakes.”

“Let me…let me talk to him,” he at least needed to hear Dean’s voice to reassure himself that he could still fix this, that he could still save his brother like Dean had saved him so many times in their lives.

“I think he’s too busy choking on his own blood to talk so you might want to consider just how important he is to you before I get bored playing,” Nick replied with a callous laugh before the line went dead.

It took several moments before Sam found the strength to close the phone and then another to keep himself from hurling the damn thing against the wall to break it.

A ding from his laptop had Sam’s head jerking up in surprise because his computer shouldn’t have been on…unless his brother was searching porn on it earlier or…

“Oh, no,” Sam whispered, lunging for the laptop to lift the lid and found that his email program was up and open which told him that for some reason Dean had been looking for something and he feared he knew what his brother might have found.

Of course the multiple emails with pics of Jess wouldn’t have been anything to worry Dean but as Sam looked at the last email his brother had seen to read the boldly typed message which would have been taken clearly as a threat and he thought he could guess how Nick Moore had gotten past his brother’s caution to jump him.

If Dean was distracted he might not have been paying close enough attention and that would also explain why he’d allow some stranger into the room even though Sam wasn’t certain if even the suggested threat should’ve been enough to upset his brother considering their recent problems.

Seeing the new email that had just come with attached video, Sam’s finger hovered over the button to open it. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see the abuse Dean was suffering because of him but with a curse at his own self for not handling this earlier and possibly avoiding the risk to his brother if he had, he opened the video and then felt nearly the same horror as he head years ago as he watched his brother literally torn to shreds.

The video didn’t show Nick Moore’s face so Sam still couldn’t ID the bastard just to see him but it showed his back and hands as he allowed a clear view of his large hands punching a severe and lethal line of well-aimed fists along Dean’s ribs and side before the camera caught the thin blade that looked like a knife used to filet fish.

The camera angle didn’t allow Sam to see his brother’s face but he didn’t have to. He knew Dean’s voice, ragged and muffled through whatever was gagging him but he also could see the anti-possession tattoo on his brother’s heaving and bloody chest.

By the time the ten minute video was over and Sam’s brain allowed him to think past the urge to throw up as it settled that he’d just watched his former girlfriend’s brother beat, cut and skillfully use a goddamn filet knife on his older brother’s skin Sam wasn’t fully aware of the anger that had settled over him.

He blindly emailed the IP address to Garth for him to hopefully track it and also to find out what he could on the man involved but Sam was already certain he knew where he needed to be because the man had overplayed his hand without even knowing it.

Sam wasn’t even aware of when he’d tossed everything into the Impala, cleaned what he could up numbly to avoid having any local police looking for them to wonder about the blood in the room.

It was only when he got behind the wheel to start the ignition and he looked down at the amulet in his palm that he’d been carrying in his duffel since he picked it up from a trashcan where Dean dropped it when the strain and doubt got to be too much that he started to come back to himself.

“I’m not losing him again and not for something that he has no part in,” he murmured to himself, fisting the amulet before slipping it on over his neck to avoid losing it and hoping he got the chance to offer it back to his brother. “Hang on Dean. I’m not letting this happen again.”

The Impala’s tired squealed out of the parking lot toward the highway that would take Sam straight toward a place that he hadn’t wanted to see since the night his brother dragged him out of the burning apartment but he knew if he had any chance at saving Dean then he had to return to Palo Alto and the very place Jessica died.

** Elsewhere, present: **

“I’ll give him a few hours to stew over that little video and then call him again to see how smart he is,” Nick Moore slipped the phone away to turn back to jerk the heavy cloth out of his prisoner’s mouth. “You think little brother is smart enough to figure out where we are or that he’ll come?” he asked almost casually.

“I…I will rip you…apart if you touch him,” Dean’s voice was dry, hoarse and ragged from hours of pain, the drugs and no liquid but he still found the strength to speak and he’d still find a way to fight this bastard if it meant trying to keep him away from Sam.

Dean woke up with his arms tied over his head to a heavy chain with cuffs that had been hooked to a rafter in what had appeared to be a dark, damp basement that smelled of things the hunter would rather not know about.

He also woke up to pain as a knife had already been moving expertly over his chest with a skill that reminded Dean a little too much of Hell and had slowly lost track of time with the amount of pain and wounds inflicted by this asshole who, Dean quickly determined, was crazier than a fruitcake and a bit too obsessed with Dean’s brother.

“I won’t have to touch the bastard, Winchester,” Nick smiled while flicking the tip of his favorite blade down his captive’s chest before turning to walk across the basement of the abandoned building to flick a torch on. “All I have to do to hurt your asshole of a brother is hurt you it seems. Your brother killed my sister and it’s taken me a long time to get loose from that hospital our parents stuck me in after my discharge from the Army but now I’ll avenge Jess and kill a couple worthless bastards in the process.”

“Sammy didn’t kill her, asshole,” Dean worked to see if the cuffs had any give or if he could slip them but they were on too tight and he felt them cut into his wrists as he fought them. “He loved…agh!”

A fist to his gut and onto a deep cut broke his words off and by the time his vision cleared again, Dean felt the heat of the white hot and glowing knife near his face and instinct had him jerking back only to have his head grabbed tightly.

“He was trash and never should’ve been allowed close to Jessy,” Nick snarled, rage and insanity plain in his eyes as he lowered the heated blade slowly toward Dean’s face. “I want him to watch you die but that doesn’t mean you need to see him so maybe I’ll video burning your eyes out and send that to the freak that let my little sister burn,” he touched the tip of the blade to his struggling captive’s cheek and smiled at the bit off scream. “You’re tough but I’ll make you scream so he’ll know pain and so will you!”

Dean strained against the cuffs and chain while his ankles were tied together and hooked to something heavy on the floor so his movement was limited as the knife neared his eye again and even with the threat of this crazy asshole he’d rather risk the harm while hoping Sam stayed away.

“Do your worst,” he forced the sneer, voice choking off as stiff fingers dug into an open cut on his side and as pain hit and things began to go black again the burning heat was felt close to his face again and the hunter’s scream of pain echoed throughout the empty building along with a laugh of the insane.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Coughs* Yep, another cliffhanger. What else will Dean endure before Sam arrives and can Sam save his brother and face his own demons in the midst of the one place he hasn’t seen in years? Stay tuned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Language and minor violence in this chapter.

****

**Chapter Three**

The pain was incredible as consciousness slowly returned and Dean Winchester would admit to a burst of panic when there was nothing but pain and blackness when he tried to see where he was since he knew on instinct that he was no longer in the basement.

He recalled the white hot knife close to his face and had the reasonable fear that the nutcase who’d kidnapped him to use as bait against his brother had indeed blinded him but then slowly realized he could feel course and heavy cloth on his face to realize he’d been blindfolded and that the pain was probably from the concussion he knew he had to have.

Dean moved cautiously to test but gritted his teeth at the pain that shot through his shoulders from the angle his arms were tied behind his back and could tell his right shoulder was also dislocated just by the way nauseating agony shot through him.

Making himself calm down to use his other senses, Dean felt he was on the floor and the smell of burnt wood and smoke still embedded in the wood began to make his brain tickle in a way he wasn’t sure he liked because the asshole with a vendetta wanted to hurt Sam for his sister’s death and the best way to hurt Sam, aside from hurting Dean, was to make him return to...

‘ _Sonuvabitch_ ,’ he groaned silently when it clicked where he was and his concern for his little brother notched up several degrees.

His ankles appeared to be tied still but the sluggish way in which his muscles moved also told Dean that the asshole that said he was Jessica’s brother drugged him again and he could feel blood from open cuts and a few deep burns but the man was sadistic and cruel in his abuse but also a little too methodical for just a common nutjob.

“Surprised you’re not dead?” Nick Moore’s voice spoke from somewhere but the drug and concussion made pinpointing his exact location difficult for the hunter.

Dean wasn’t because he knew the man would use him against Sam. It was not a secret that if either of them had a weakness it was each other. It had been exploited by both Angels and demons but Dean would be damned if some crazy asshole would do it even if it meant his death, he would find some way to shield Sam from this.

“You may…as well kill me,” he muttered through lips swelled and split, voice dry and ragged. “I’m not gonna let you…hurt him.”

Nick shook his head as he finished preparing the room for his final act of revenge against the punk who’d cost him his sister’s life while watching his brother.

Nick Moore had been in the Army for ten years before the call came that changed his life. He’d been a skilled soldier trained in stealth and in interrogation by the best the Army and the CIA had so he knew the tricks of how to hurt a man, how to break him down slowly and how to hurt seriously until the suspect was begging for death or just begging.

He’d used those techniques on Sam Winchester’s older brother in both a way to show what he was in for and because he wanted the man broke and begging for saving by the time Sam figured it out to show up in the old abandoned apartment building but the man wasn’t playing along like he should be.

Oh, he’d screamed a few times because Nick also knew how to inflict the most pain on sensitive nerves but even though his chest, arms and back were littered with bruises, welts, burns and cuts the man still refused to break to the point where he would be for the torment to stop.

In fact when he did speak it was usually to curse Nick and vow to protect his brother which just served to fray the man’s well beyond scattered nerves and enflame his hate even more.

Nick had hated Sam Winchester even before Jessica died. He hated that his parents had allowed his innocent, naïve sister to move away from home to attend college in California but when he learned they were allowing her to move in with some guy in a rundown apartment so beneath Jessica’s style he’d been furious.

He and his father had fought constantly long distance about this wrong side of the tracks boy who’d gained a full ride to Stanford but could hardly afford anything else dating Jessica much less living with her. When the call came to inform him of the accident and the fire that killed her Nick had lost control and had been dishonorably discharged for some stupid excuse the Army had given.

Of course his parents had gone along with the Army doctors and the shrinks when they all said he’d had a nervous breakdown and for his own safety and that of others needed to be locked away.

For eight years he’d spent planning his revenge on the monster that had taken his sister away and on the day a new intern had made the mistake of turning his back on him, Nick had broken his neck and escaped the mental hospital in Nevada to finally make his plans into reality.

It had taken him a good long while to finally lock onto Winchester’s trail because it seems like he and his brother were very good at hiding themselves but the more he learned the more he was convinced killing him would not only avenge Jessica but protect others.

Nick had paid for some information and had stolen others but the one thing that he’d learned that never faltered no matter where he got the details was that Sam Winchester had one fatal flaw, one single weakness that could be exploited and that was his older brother.

Originally he’d taken Dean to be just another tough guy with a big mouth but now, after so nearly a day and a half of constant and brutal abuse, he was beginning to admit that it might take more to break him or maybe he’d just kill the asshole and let the kid find him bleeding out before the explosives take care of the rest.

“If someone killed your brother, what would you do?” he asked casually, carefully arranging the final wires around the room before picking up the can of gas.

“I’ve done it, dick,” Dean spat, smelling the fumes of gas but also picking up the light odor of something only someone who had been around plastic explosives would know and worked to free his wrists but found that they’d been tied with the damn plastic riot cuffs and not ropes or cuffs this time. “I’d say to ask that bastard how it worked out for him but he’d have a hard time replying since he’s dead and burned.”

Nick paused to look at Dean’s bruised and bloodied face to slowly realize the man wasn’t kidding; that he was serious. “So I guess the stuff I learned about the two of you were true and you both are murderers.”

“You don’t know…jack about us,” Dean bit his already swelled lip when a steel toed boot landed in the small of his back hard enough to have him concerned about internal injuries. “You…think you know what happened to Jessica, that it was…Sam’s fault but if you knew…if you knew what really killed your sister you’d go crawl back under whatever rock you’ve been hiding under for eight years and argh!!”

A knee pressed down hard against the shoulder that was already dislocated and the raw gasoline pouring over the wounds on his back made it impossible to bite back the scream this time.

“I know what killed my sister, smartass,” Nick snarled, fingers shaking as they itched to light the matches in his pocket.

“No, you don’t.”

The voice took both men off guard but for different reasons but before Dean could work past the pain to order Sam out his head was jerked back forcefully with the tip of a blade very close to his throat.

“Well, you’re more resourceful than I gave you credit for. I had the front door rigged to let me know if you showed up…though I honestly didn’t think you’d have the balls to come here,” Nick’s eyes were hate filled at they took in the tall well-built young man who had allowed his sister to die, jerking the knife in warning. “Stay back or I’ll slit his damn throat before you can hear him beg.”

“My brother won’t beg you and you knew I’d come so long as you had him,” Sam’s eyes were quick as they took in his brother’s condition while also watching the man who had grabbed him.

Nick’s eyes were a lot like Jessica’s in color but they held a madness that hers never did. He was a tall man, roughly about Dean’s size but Sam knew looks could be deceiving because most people didn’t take Dean for a threat either.

Sam knew the most innocent person could be a threat and he knew the knife his late girlfriend’s brother held at Dean’s throat as well as the smell of gas in the room were a huge threat. He also didn’t like how pale Dean looked or the amount of blood he seemed to have lost from the wounds he could see.

“I’m here now let Dean go and you can do whatever you want to me,” Sam knew it wouldn’t be that simple but right then all he wanted was to get the former soldier away from his brother.

“No, it’s not that simple,” Nick replied with a slow smile, running the edge of the blade under Dean’s throat to feel the man jerk as a thin cut was made. “I want to hear you beg for his life. I want you to know fear and pain. I want you to know the same fear my sister felt.”

“He has!” Dean hissed, not caring about the blade at his neck or the pain he was in or how his head seemed to want to black out again. All he cared about was Sam not being close to this lunatic. “Sammy, get out!”

A fist to the back of Dean’s head made him grunt, falling limp but not fully unconsciousness as he heard the strain in Sam’s voice when he called out to him.

“Dean!” Sam was too far away to be sure how Dean was breathing but he knew it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t get Nick Moore away from him. “Dean’s got nothing to do with me and Jessica. Jess was already dead by the time I got home that night. I couldn’t save her,” he still wished that he’d been able to.

“She never should’ve been with you!” Nick snapped, stepping over Dean but not before giving another kick to the back of his captive. “You were trash! You were nothing but a freak who didn’t belong with her. It should’ve been you that died and not her!”

“I know,” Sam murmured, keeping one hand shifted a little behind him out of sight as if in his back pocket while his other rubbed uneasily down the leg of his jeans as he didn’t have to pretend how much being back in this apartment, in this bedroom, hurt him. “You have no idea how many times I wish to this day that I’d died in her place but…it wasn’t the way it was meant to be.”

Nick stepped closer to throw a hard fist, striking Sam in the face but all it did was move him a little but didn’t seem to faze him much as his eyes were locked between his brother’s prone body and the ceiling that Dean was laid out under.

“My sister was a sweet girl who could’ve had anything she wanted in life!” he railed, fury now lit within him as he pulled a lighter from his pocket to finally see Sam’s attention move to it. “She could’ve lived in a dorm with other girls of her class and lifestyle instead of this place! She died here! She died because this place was a deathtrap waiting to happen and…”

“She died because a demon wanted to send a message to my family that it wasn’t quite done with us,” Sam’s eyes watched the lighter carefully, hearing a moan and a cough but when he caught sight of blood on Dean’s lips it was hard for him not to move.

It hadn’t taken him long to figure out where Nick Moore had more than likely taken Dean and while he made the drive Sam had made a couple calls until he’d gotten the information on his former girlfriend’s brother that he’d needed.

Garth had taken less time to find out that Nick Moore was wanted for murder of a mental hospital intern and that had been how he’d escaped. He’d also learned that the former Army Lieutenant was deemed a dangerous threat to himself and to society.

Sam had no doubts about the dangerous part as he watched his eyes dart wildly while his fingers played with the lighter in one hand while fisting the other. The gasoline that had been poured around the room, much of it on or too close to Dean, worried him but not as much as the wires leading to the plastic explosives he could see set around the room.

“I admit that Jess died because she dated me. I admit that my past, the life I thought I’d left behind is what killed her and I wish I could say that if I had been here that night that she wouldn’t have died but…I can’t,” Sam made himself look away from his brother, wishing he could see Dean’s eyes behind the blindfold or know if his brother was conscious or not. “Jess would’ve died if I’d been here or not but that’s on my damn head. Not my brother’s so if you want revenge on someone, if you want me to pay for her dying then fine.”

Taking a few steps back until he was nearly out of the bedroom but hoping he could get the maniac away from Dean, to get the lighter away from too much gas and fumes, Sam knew Nick’s plan was to make him watch as he hurt Dean more than he had and that was something he needed to prevent.

“I think you hate me for a lot more than just Jess’s death but whatever it is I’m not going to fight you because I can’t argue that it wasn’t my fault but you need to make this between us,” he shifted another look behind the other man to look at his brother. “You need to let him go.”

“I need to make you scream as I rip his skin off or make you watch from the outside as I burn this place down so he can roast in here like my little sister did,” Nick flicked the lighter open but shot the younger man a sharp look when Sam’s whole body went rigid. “You move and I light him up right now and we can all go to hell. You really are crazy if you think I’ll believe the story you’ll giving me about demons though from what I heard about you two then maybe you are crazy,” Nick sneered, eyeing Sam with hate. “You want him saved?” he asked in a dangerously low voice. “What makes your brother any more important than my sister, asshole? Why shouldn’t he die for her?”

“Because he didn’t kill her…I did,” Sam replied in a voice he was surprised didn’t shake, dropping to his knees just outside the bedroom door. “Dean’s done nothing but protect me my whole life. He tried to save Jess but she was dead already by the time the fire claimed her body. You don’t want to kill him. You want to kill me and I’m fine with that.

“I owe Dean that in the worst way for this last mistake so kill me,” the young hunter offered, closing his fingers around what was hidden under his jacket while reaching out with his free hand but not missing the sudden jerk of Dean’s head. “Killing Dean won’t get you vengeance for Jess. He met her once. I’m the one who moved her in here. I’m the one who loved…”

“Shut up!” Nick screamed, lunging for Sam in a blind rage but as he did, as his fingers wrapped around the younger man’s throat the sound of the lighter flicking to life was heard. “You didn’t love her! No one could love her enough!”

The ex-soldier and Sam both landed hard in the hallway floor with the hunter’s head snapping against the floor with a loud crash, stunning him for a moment; long enough for Nick’s hand to get a better lock on his throat but the man’s now fully crazed eyes were centering on the flames the lighter was producing.

“You didn’t love her or else you would’ve risked fire and death to save her, Winchester,” he snarled, looking back into the room when a dangerous and clearly insane glint entered his eyes. “Let’s see if you’d risk fire and death for him. Let’s see if you’ll let your precious brother burn up like my sister did…of course I think with my hand cutting off your air it might be a little hard to save him too.”

With a casual toss of his wrist, the lighter flew to land by some horrible piece of luck or sick planning by Nick to catch a piece of cloth on fire that slowly but surely was spreading the flames closer to where the gasoline had been tossed and also right toward an a gradually stirring Dean.

“No,” Sam’s eyes widened in horror as he took in the flames that caught the gas and quickly expanded and as he tensed to fight back against the grip of stiff fingers that were either meant to crush his throat or choke him his memories of that last night here intermingled with trying to see his brother’s tied and prone body through the flames. “No, damn it! Dean!” he yelled as something inside him froze when the first jagged barely conscious but fully aware of the flames shout of pain came from the bedroom and he saw fire on his brother’s body. “ ** _DEAN!!!”_**

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: No real warnings in this one except for the language and usual. Yes, I know I didn’t start where the last one ended but just trust me and go with it. All will make sense by the end.

**Chapter Four**

** Forty-Eight Hours Later, Palo Alto, CA: **

If there was someplace other than hospitals that Sam Winchester hated it would be cemeteries. As a hunter he didn’t see them often since most hunters that he had known, except Rufus, all had gotten the standard hunter funeral of cremation.

Though in this case he supposed cremation hadn’t been required as he glanced at the burns on his hands and arms that were still carefully covered. He could feel the ones on his legs and back pulling but ignored that pain to focus on the deeper pain that was threatening to overcome him as he stood near a grave while trying not to look at the freshly covered one near it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered even though he was all alone, a cool evening breeze blowing that seemed to almost be like fingers through his hair. “None of this should’ve happened to you and I should’ve been watching out more. If I could’ve saved you…I wish to God this was me and you were standing here.”

Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Sam fought back the burning tears that he honestly believed he’d finished shedding in the hospital two days earlier while trying to handle his emotions, his guilt and the obvious questions of both staff and police.

He had thought after Dean’s return from Purgatory that he was done with feeling the loss or of facing the fear of what would come next but he guessed he should always remember that he was a Winchester and if something bad could happen to a Winchester then it would.

The burns on his hands were a bit more serious than on his arms though his legs and back had taken the worst of them since he’d done his best to shield his brother from the flames that were burning him and Sam wished he’d been quicker but it had taken him longer than he liked to deal with Nick Moore.

The hunter’s fingers shook as he closed them back around the amulet that had once belonged to Dean and now he wasn’t sure what to do with it or himself, shivering as the wind blew again and Sam could still smell the gas and smoke in his nose and on his skin from that damn night forty eight hours earlier…

** Flashback, 48-Hours before: **

“ ** _DEAN_**!!” Sam’s panic went to terror as he watched the flames attack his brother and knowing even if Dean wasn’t drugged the way he was tied kept him from escaping or avoiding them.

“Now you’ll know what it’s like to watch him die!” Nick Moore’s laugh was nothing but a near mad cackle now, pleased to the point where his grip on Sam’s throat eased since he knew the boy would be too traumatized by watching his brother burn to fight back…or so he thought.

Sam’s reaction was pure instinct and gut reaction as he pulled the knife he’d kept sheathed under his jacket and slashed it across Nick’s stomach, hearing and ignoring the startled shriek of pain and denial as his fist connected with the man’s face.

“I already have watched him die!” he snapped while kicking out with one leg to catch the surprised former military man turned lunatic in the knee to finally get enough space to shove to his feet and lunge into the bedroom that was being engulfed in flames yet again. “I’m not doing it again! Dean!”

Judging the flames to where he knew his brother’s body had been Sam swore viciously at how fast the damn spilled gasoline had caused the flames to spread when he heard Dean’s voice choking through fire and smoke. “Dean!”

“Sa…Sam!” the pain was clear but the younger hunter couldn’t be sure if his brother’s words were slurred from shock, pain or drugs but it gave him a location and without a thought of the risk to himself Sam jumped past the smallest track of flames while also trying to put out what he could by using his hastily removed jacket but quickly realized he needed to get Dean out of the apartment.

“Shit!” Sam cursed while dropping to the floor beside where Dean was straining to twist or do something to put out the flames licking at his legs while nearly rolling right into them if Sam’s hands hadn’t pulled him back but took the fire on his own hands. “Hold on!”

Dean was halfway back to full consciousness but the drugs must have been stronger this time and made him more sluggish and not able to focus fast enough to understand what was happening except his little brother was arguing with a deranged nutcase and then he felt the flames.

Fire was not something that either of them liked considering their pasts and when the blindfold was jerked off to allow him to see what he could out of swelled and fuzzy eyes Dean recognized the barely hidden panic in Sam’s wide hazel eyes but couldn’t be certain if it was due to the situation or the memories this was bringing back.

What Dean did know was that Sam needed to get the hell out of this place before it all went up in smoke. “Get…get out,” he choked on smoke and fumes, gasping when his bruised and already battered and torn up body took another beating by the full weight of his Sasquatch sized brother when Sam tried to use his own body to put out any flames already on him. “Sam…no time to get…me loose. He’s got the place…rigged. It’ll go up any…any second. You’ve gotta go.”

“I’m not leaving you, Dean,” Sam refused flat out; already deciding that he’d get his brother out alive and safe or they’d both face eternity wherever they ended up together but he was not doing the whole alone thing again. “Stay still and I’ll have you loose and damn it!” he glanced up as something fell on his back to burn through his shirt and into his skin.

The flames had caught the ragged curtains that still hung in the room and now once again the ceiling where Sam had watched his girlfriend burn was on fire right above where he struggled to free his brother of the restraints while also trying to shield him from the flames and ignoring the pain as Sam knew he was getting burned.

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice was barely there but when he spoke the nickname that he hadn’t used since returning from Purgatory it still made his brother still. “You can’t get me loose and outta here before this place goes up or comes down around us,” he felt his wrists moving freer but not enough to free himself yet and the sounds of wood cracking and boards creaking told him dimly their time was running out. “I want you out. I’m…”

“No, don’t you say it,” Sam refused to listen to what he knew would come. He was not going to let his brother say the words he hardly ever said to anyone, much less him, just because he believed he was dying. “You pulled me out of here that night and I’m not leaving here now without you. Just hang on. I’ve almost got…”

“Sam!” Dean suddenly shifted his body to knock his brother off balance and also made it that the bullet that cracked above them missed striking Sam in the neck but as Sam struggled to regain his balance, avoid the flames that had crept closer and pull his weapon Dean could see the badly bleeding but still determined to finish the job psycho aim again and knew this time he wouldn’t miss. “Sammy! Move…!”

The fear for Sam outweighed everything else in Dean which might have been what allowed a brief surge of adrenaline so that he was able to shove himself up enough to use his shoulder to knock Sam away from him and away from the bullet that just fired.

“Dean, no!” Sam’s fingers closed on his weapon when his brother’s movement took him by surprise when Dean’s shoulder hit him in the chest to push him out of the path of the next bullet but his head jerked at the sound of the 9mm round striking flesh and watched as his brother’s body seemed to be hit with another round before the momentum of the moment slowed to a crawl.

Saving Sam hadn’t allowed Dean the strength to avoid the bullet that struck his shoulder or the next one that hit him in the back and shock and pain was already causing him to black out before the flames he fell toward could engulf him.

The next few moments were a blank to Sam as he pulled his gun from where he’d shoved it into the back of his jeans and was firing it even as he pulled himself to his knees to see four rounds hit Nick Moore in the chest. “Go to hell,” he told the man whose eyes he held as he fell to the floor, the weapon that had shot Dean falling from his fingers as life went out of crazed eyes. “Dean? Dean, are you…oh, God…”

Smoke, fire and flames were all Sam could see as he began to cough from the fumes and smoke surrounding him but he ignored the flames all around him, even as he batted at his arms to try to find his brother just as a loud crack made him look up to the spot where Jessica had died to see the ceiling begin to fall. “ _Dean_!!”

** Present: **

“I’m sorry,” Sam wasn’t sure how many times he’d apologize or how long he planned to stay in the cemetery when he knew he needed to face other issues.

“Sam?”

The hesitant voice from behind him wasn’t a shock since Sam knew that someone would come or that someone would have to come to check on things or at the very least come speak with the police. He just wasn’t sure if he was prepared to face Charles Moore over the grave of his daughter yet again.

“Mr. Moore,” he turned slowly after running a shaky hand over his face to clear the tears away. “I hope you don’t mind that I came by to visit her.”

Charles Moore had aged much since the funeral of his youngest child eight years earlier but he still didn’t harbor any resentment for the tall young man who his daughter had adored. “You’re always welcome to visit Jessica, Sam,” he assured him while taking in the covered burns, the fading bruises and the deep shadows under deep and sad eyes.

“I’m sorry this happened, Sam,” he sighed as he looked down at the newly covered grave before glancing back up. “When Nick escaped the hospital his mother and I never gave it a thought that he’d track you down or that he’d ever do what he did to your brother. Are you…I mean…”

Sam fought back the more natural urge these days to give a smart ass reply since how in the how was he expected to be alright considering things but rather than do that he merely gave a small nod. “I just wanted to stop by to apologize again. Jess shouldn’t have died but…I won’t say I’m sorry he did.

“I loved Jess, Mr. Moore. Even after eight years I still love her and I wish it would’ve been different. I wish she wouldn’t have died but I hope you understand why I’m not going to apologize for your son’s death,” he suddenly wanted out of this place before he did say or do something he’d regret later. “I got that he hated me and if he’d have just come after me it might’ve been different but…he went after my brother and he…”

“Nick was a sick, sick man after his sister’s death but…we don’t blame you for his death, son,” Mr. Moore assured him, placing a careful hand on Sam’s shoulder but moved it when he felt him tense. “I wish I could offer you more than my own apology or the assurance that the police won’t be an issue since you were clearly defending yourself.”

“No, I was defending my brother,” Sam corrected quietly, a muscle twitching in his jaw and he knew it was time he went back to the motel on the edge of Palo Alto. “Goodbye, Mr. Moore.”

He didn’t give the older man a chance to say more because Sam feared anything else and he might snap because the man and his family clearly knew the danger their son posed to others but yet he’d only been in a medium grade psych hospital.

That error had cost one man his life, possibly more from what Garth was finding out now, and had very nearly cost Sam his life but more importantly it had also come very close to costing him his older brother’s life.

The ride from the cemetery to the motel he’d chosen once it had been safe enough to get Dean released AMA was small and quiet with no fancy high tech things to appeal to the college kids but it had rooms with two queen size beds, a bathroom with shower/tub duo, cable and Wi-Fi.

The last two had been a must since Sam knew how cranky his brother could be after being hurt seriously and regardless of what Dean said it was still in Sam’s nightmares what else had happened in that apartment and how close Dean had come to bleeding out or burning to death.

Sam made a quick run to a diner he and Jess used to frequent to grab dinner and was relieved the owners had changed because that had been his one issue with staying in the area until he was confident Dean was well enough to move on…the chance of anyone remembering him and of the memories returning more than they had.

The fire had all but gutted the apartment building this time but Sam couldn’t care less. He’d barely managed to get Dean out before the set explosives had gone off thanks to the flames and then he spent the night handling cops and doctors while calling on Garth more than once.

Dean had suffered greatly from the beatings and abuse Nick Moore had put him through since kidnapping him to finally being shot twice and also having first to second degree burns over a good deal of his already bruised and battered body.

The one bullet had passed straight through his shoulder but the second had nearly hit a lung and had been the one wound, on top of the seriously infected cuts that littered his back and chest, that had worried the doctors but the moment his brother had been told he could release himself AMA, Sam knew he would and hadn’t been shocked.

Of course Sam wasn’t sure if it was the wounds or what but something seemed to have made Dean quiet and almost withdrawn and that did worry the younger Winchester, though he didn’t want to push and upset his brother but he did wish Dean would say whatever was bothering him so Sam would know what to do now.

He didn’t blame Dean for hating or blaming him for this since it was on Sam’s head that this happened. He should’ve told his brother about the emails, about the threats but he hadn’t and in the end Dean had nearly died.

Sam sat in the Impala for a few minutes after parking in front of the motel before finally grabbing the bag of food, unlocking the door and stepping in to frown a little at the low light across the room and the TV being the only lights illuminating the room.

“I brought dinner and pie,” he spoke after a couple seconds, sitting the bag on the table to carefully ease his jacket off while biting his lip to keep from hissing as a sleeve pulled on one of the covered burns on his arm. “I also swung by to pick up the meds the doctor said you’d need for the burns and pain and he said if you were still doing good tomorrow afternoon then it was probably safe to move on…unless you have other ideas.”

The last words were spoken quietly but still heard over the lame comedy that Dean had switched on earlier but he didn’t immediately reply as he shifted on his bed to try to stand up to see what his brother had brought back only to frown when a burger and fries was placed beside him while the drink went on the bedside table.

“I’m in pain and things still spin form the mild concussion but I don’t need to eat in bed,” he knew he sounded gruff but his voice was still low and scratchy from the smoke and from yelling but Dean also knew that he needed to settle Sam down and do it now before the kid fell apart literally in front of him.

Ever since he woke up in the hospital Sam had been two steps away. He hovered when he thought Dean didn’t know it and had snarled at doctors and nurses in a way that Dean would’ve found amusing if it hadn’t gotten to the point where he actually feared his usually calm and laidback little brother was going to hurt one of them if they touched Dean in a way Sam didn’t like.

It had been after one such incident that Dean and the head doctor agreed that AMA would be the best way to go unless the elder brother had wanted to see Sam arrested or kicked out of the hospital.

He accepted that he’d been a little more quiet than usual but Dean had a lot on his mind that was bothering him and wasn’t really certain how to address it since he and Sam hadn’t been having those deep heart to heart talks since he got back from Purgatory but when Sam jerked back when he spoke Dean knew it was time they started.

“Sit down, Sam,” he’d managed to reach out and catch his brother’s wrist before he could move back but remembered to be careful since while he had the more serious burns and wounds his little brother had managed to pick up a couple nifty burns himself. “Sammy.”

The simple use of that nickname made Sam sit down on the edge of the bed but he still avoided looking at his brother while he busied himself with laying out a few bottles of pills, some salve for burns and clean gauze. “Alright, I know what you’re going to say and you’re right,” he began quietly, hazel eyes intentionally avoiding Dean’s gaze because if he was going to face this then Sam needed to do it without seeing the more common dark look where he once knew he’d see calm understanding or even a little compassion.

“I should’ve told you about those emails. I should’ve told you that I thought something was wrong. I didn’t because I was afraid you’d yell about me being paranoid or that me taking a year off had dulled my senses or that I was running scared from a few photos. I wanted to tell you about them, about the nightmares…” Sam paused to reach up to feel the amulet under his shirt, missing the way his brother’s gaze watched him closely. “I wanted to tell you but…I’m not a kid anymore and…

“It was my fault you got hurt because if I had told you then you might have known to suspect something was wrong or you wouldn’t have found those photos and got distracted…though I’m not sure why they would’ve distracted you,” Sam was tired and it showed as he rambled on, only stopping when a hand lightly touched the back of his neck.

“The fact that someone asshole was sending you pictures of your dead girlfriend with a not so pleasant message attached kind of pissed me off and I was a little distracted with wondering who the hell I was going to rip the lungs out of,” Dean admitted as he sat up so he could nudge Sam’s shoulder with his and then hissed in pain since it was his injured one.

Sam’s eyes immediately shot to Dean’s face to gauge the pain before reaching for a bottle of pills. “They said you’ll be sore so you probably shouldn’t…”

“This isn’t your fault,” Dean cut him off finally, sharpening his gaze when his brother went to argue. “Yes, you should’ve told me what was happening. Would I have given you grief over being paranoid? Maybe but if I did you know damn good and well once I saw the message in that one email that you would’ve had my attention because the bastard threatened my brother and that’s not done. Not before, not now, and not ever.

“I let him in, Sammy. I made the mistake of not listening to my senses but then it didn’t matter because I just wanted to keep him away from you,” his fingers squeezed like they did when he used to do this as a way to offer his brother support without speaking. “No matter what happened to me, this was not your fault.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? Why shut me out again?” Sam asked suddenly, too many days without sleep and almost constant fear taking a toll in that he was willing to ask that straight out even though he figured he wouldn’t like the answer.

With a low hum Dean suspected that was part of why Sam was starting to be edgy with him again. “Why did you offer to let that nutjob kill you?” he countered, pretty certain of all the things he’d heard in the last week that would haunt him the most. “Why didn’t you get out when I told you to? Why did you risk it, Sam?”

“Because you’re my brother and I…” Sam bit down hard on his tongue to keep those last two words in since his anti-emotional brother rarely ever said them unless one of them was hurt seriously…until now.

“I love you too, little brother,” Dean felt the way Sam tensed at his use of the words he hadn’t heard enough growing up or more recently. “I didn’t want you back in that apartment or having to suffer through that again much less have to deal with him or having to make that choice,” he sighed while seeing the outline of what Sam’s fingers kept moving toward under his shirt and feeling his breath catch.

“You thought I left you for dead last year, Dean. I wasn’t leaving you again and especially not when it was over something that I never should’ve let happen either,” Sam’s eyes dropped to where Dean’s fingers turned his wrist over to look at the worst burns on his hands. “I would’ve let him kill me or I’d take the burns if it meant you’d live and forgive me for…”

Dean had thought in eight years that Sam had somehow managed to forgive himself for Jessica’s death but from what little he could recall hearing while he drifted in and out back there it was pretty clear his little brother still carried that guilt. “There’s nothing to forgive you for this time since even if you had told me about those damn emails we didn’t know who’d sent them so the odds were good he’d still have gotten the jump on me sometime.

“I’ll heal from this like I have everything else. You killed the asshole so he’s not going to hurt you or anyone again,” that was what was important for Dean to know because he didn’t care about himself as much as he did Sam’s safety. “We were on the road again to being brothers before this happened and we’re still on that road because we’re all each other have left, Sammy.

“It was wrong for me to lay all the crap on you that I have recently, especially about the damn dog since if I could’ve given you one as a kid then I would’ve but I was raw from Purgatory and trying to shield you from all that as best I could,” Dean took in the burns on Sam’s hands, knowing he’d gotten them from trying to untie him just like he knew he’d gotten the ones on his back and legs from shielding him.

It wasn’t easy for Dean when it had to come down to his little brother protecting him since he still saw Sam as the chubby little boy that took his first steps toward Dean on short shaky legs and when. It was extra hard after it all settled down and Sam would give him the puppy dog eyes with huge hazel eyes but Dean got that his brother still was worried about the past fights since his return and feared Dean blamed him for this as well.

“Y’know I’m the big brother so it’s my job to protect you…to this day I will always have your back and try to keep you safe from monsters or lunatics but…I need you to tell me one thing, Sammy,” he reached up to carefully ease the black cord of the amulet out from under Sam’s shirt to remember the Christmas when Sam first gave it to him and the day he tossed it away.

Dean wanted to ask how long he’d had it but that wasn’t what had been making him distant the past two days. He’d been quiet while trying to piece together the last things he recalled in the apartment, which had been him getting shot and falling into what should’ve been the flames that took his life, and what happened after he passed out.

“What happened back there after I got shot?” he asked, holding the amulet loosely in his fingers while latching onto Sam’s neck firmly this time to keep his brother sitting still when it was clear he wanted to pace now just by the way his breathing picked up. “What kept me from burning or what kept that whole place from coming down on us?”

Sam tried to keep his breathing calm but this was the one thing he’d been leery on revealing because he wasn’t sure if Dean would believe him or just say he’d been imagining it but as he watched his brother play with the amulet until he took it off to simply, silently offer it back he took a deep breath. “Jess came.”

** Flashback: **

_“Dean!”_ Sam couldn’t see anything past the flames and smoke while he thought he could hear sirens in the distance he knew they’d be too late when he looked up in time to see the ceiling begin to fall.

“Sam.”

Expecting to maybe hear his brother screaming in pain as flames consumed him or even a cough from the building smoke, Sam was certain he was leaning toward the side of hallucination as he blinked to see the flames in the center of the room almost dying down.

Though what convinced him of that was the slender silhouette that formed out of the flames…flames that she seemed to be keeping away from Dean.

“Jess,” he whispered, stepping forward but going to the floor next to his older brother to check his pulse before releasing a shaky breath when he found it beating strongly if a bit erratically. Then he looked up into the blue eyes of the young blond woman he had loved and lost what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Why? How?”

Jessica Moore wore the shorts and Smurf shirt she had the night Sam’s life had changed and not what she’d been wearing the night she died in this very room. Her long blond hair slid past her shoulders as she offered a smile.

“My brother shouldn’t cost you yours,” she gazed past Sam to where the body of her own brother was burning in the flames. “Nick was never stable, Sam. It’s one of the reasons I never talked about him to you or would never have let you meet him. I’m sorry this happened to you or to Dean.”

“It was my fault you died, Jess,” Sam remarked while quickly finishing undoing the ropes on Dean’s ankles before easing him up against him to figure out the best way to escape the burning apartment. “There were things I should’ve told you that I didn’t and…”

“Brady did before he killed me,” Jessica told him, kneeling down to smooth her fingers over Sam’s face. “I never blamed you, Sam. I loved you then and will love you always but you need to let go now,” she smiled and seemed almost happy. “I can move on now. I didn’t before because I never got to tell you that I didn’t blame you and I knew you held onto that guilt. He won’t blame you either but you need to get Dean and get out. You’ll be safe until you reach the street.”

Sam had thought that if he ever got the chance to speak to Jessica again that he’d have so much to say but now as he met her eyes and a silent understanding passed between them he could only nod. “I still love you, Jess,” he murmured, closing his eyes a little at the soft feel of a ghostly kiss on his.

“I love you too, Sam,” she smiled again, keeping the flames and wood away from them as Sam got his brother up and across his shoulders to stumble a little through the apartment. “Be safe.”

** Present: **

“Sammy,” Dean’s arm was around Sam’s shoulders even before the younger man knew they were shaking or that the buried pain and tears that he’d been hiding for days over losing Dean and facing his past had come out suddenly.

As Sam spoke to explain Jessica’s visit, Dean had caught the way his brother had started to shake and by the time he’d gotten to the end it was obvious the kid’s exhaustion and emotions were breaking open and as years of raising an over emotional little brother had taught him Dean merely ignored his pain to pull Sam against him to just wait it out.

“I miss her still but it wasn’t going back there because of Jess that scared me,” Sam’s voice was shaking and broken as he tried to speak and breathe through tears that he hadn’t shed in over a year, turning to see the amulet back around Dean’s neck and that seemed to break the final wall and he let his fingers curl into the t-shirt his brother wore. “I was scared that I’d lose you in the same place that I lost her.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Sam,” Dean assured him as he accepted the armful of exhausted little brother and just held on in a way that he hadn’t allowed himself since returning. “You saved my life even though as soon as you wake up you will let me see the burns you think I don’t know you have,” he smirked a little at the bitch face he knew he was getting even though he was already easing Sam down on the bed.

“You’re hurt worse,” Sam’s tone was pure bitchy little brother which was something else they hadn’t been relaxed with one another lately so that he’d feel comfortable using but now that he did, now that Dean had taken the amulet back and his fingers didn’t seem to leave his neck Sam felt a little more at ease.

“Yep, but you won’t be much good to me if you crash from not sleeping, not eating or infected burns, Sammy,” Dean shot back, keeping his grip on Sam’s neck until he felt his brother settle on his stomach with his face buried in Dean’s pillow while muttering something that made his older brother smile. “I know you do, little brother. I’m not leaving you but we are leaving this town as soon as you’re awake.”

Dean knew Sam would fight sleep since he’d want to make sure Dean was alright but since he also figured it had been close to four days since Sam had slept decently he wasn’t surprised to feel his brother slowly relax into sleep after a couple more muttered comments.

He stayed sitting on the bed with his hand on Sam’s neck just to be certain he’d sleep since Dean got that the nightmares would still be there for a few more days but not over Jessica. Sam would be having nightmares of nearly losing Dean because whenever he’d been hurt seriously his brother had bad dreams like that and it was just another thing he’d adjusted to over the years.

Switching the TV to some history show, Dean unwrapped the burger to eat it before he propped himself up beside his sleeping brother to doze off slowly.

They had a ways to go before they’d be back to where they were years ago but for the first time in months Dean felt secure in knowing that Sam felt safe enough to sleep and that they would get back on that road to being brothers again like they had been.

“No more nutjobs, baby brother,” he yawned, glancing down to see the amulet laying back against his chest and amazed at how much weight seemed to have lifted since he put it back on. “We’ll talk about how long you’ve had this when you wake up and you can also tell me what the hell you have porn or Becky’s stories stored on that laptop while you’re talking too.”

Dean let himself fall to sleep, content they were safe since he’d checked the salt lines and wards even before Sam got back and while he couldn’t protect his brother from everything it would be a long time before anything like this happened again because while monsters he got it never failed to amaze him how crazy the regular people were.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/NII: Thanks for reading. I hope everyone enjoyed it even with the evil cliffhangers. Please look me up on Facebook under morgana07 for updates, news, chatting, etc. Thanks!!

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, evil cliffhanger. Who is this guy? What’s his issue with Sam and why is he making a move now? Will Sam find out what’s happening? Will he be able to do anything before Dean’s hurt too badly? Stay tuned for Chapter 2.


End file.
